


A Good Boyfriend

by EdmondJames_Dantes



Category: NCIS
Genre: Bodily Functions, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:03:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9689762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdmondJames_Dantes/pseuds/EdmondJames_Dantes
Summary: Gibbs catches the flu for the first time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning, this one might be a little odd, or not to some people's tastes. I wouldn't consider it graphic, but one person does need some help on the toilet, due to being very physically weak from his first flu.

 

Tony couldn't really call himself a good boyfriend - certainly not to his previous girlfriends. Most of the time he worked too many hours, he cancelled plans at last minute whenever his boss would call (regardless of if it had been work-related or friend-related, not that he had been 100% honest about that with his girlfriends), and he had a bad habit of getting distracted in the middle of sex by thinking of case ideas that pretty much always lead to breakthroughs.

 

Not that he could actually help that last one, but it did make him smile whenever Tim or Ellie would ask, deeply frustrated, how he managed to pull such large leaps of logic out of seemingly nowhere. They'd probably regret asking if he ever told them that particular truth. The most recent time Ellie had asked, with the whole team standing in front of the bullpen T.V. screen, Gibbs had ducked away muttering something about needing to hit the head. Tony had it on the highest authority that the boss had spent 5 minutes in the men's restroom laughing his head off.

 

On the other hand, Tony had a few pros to go with the cons. First, he had no problems about buying large quantities of pads or tampons, chocolate, and painkillers, for those women he had been dating long enough for them to hit their time of month. Not that buying _any_ of those items would be useful in his current relationship. Gibbs didn't need pads or tampons, he didn't eat sweets because of his diabetes, and he turned his nose up at painkillers 9 out of 10 times.

 

Second, he gave _fantastic_ massages, courtesy of keeping in practice, and even updating, the physiotherapy skills he had learned in his Phys. Ed. major. Not that Gibbs had ever accepted one, something about how _My back is fine, Tony, so is the shoulder that over the years has been shot and stabbed and dislocated, and yes my bad knee is fine too!_

 

Third, Tony loved to give oral sex to his girlfriends, and was happy to do so as often as wanted, which probably wouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, if they were to give two seconds of consideration to his  inability to keep his mouth closed. Though sadly, satisfying his oral fixation on men wasn't something of which he had much practice, so Tony wasn't sure if it still counted as a pro, given that he was now with a man _._ Honestly, he wasn't quite sure why Gibbs seemed to want to keep him around some days.

 

But, in none of his relationships, casual or serious, short or long term, did he have any experience with taking care of someone who was sick. No experience whatsoever other than looking after himself when he was ill.   He vaguely remembered Wendy going home to her mother that one time she had the flu, and Tony couldn't recall his mom or dad or any of the house staff from his childhood taking care of him in a moment of illness, though surely he had been sick at some stage in his childhood and someone had done _something_ for him back then.

 

However these days, his self-care usually consisted of eating ice-cream, drinking protein shakes, and watching movies, whilst shutting and locking out mothering girlfriends, and over-protective frat brothers, and nosy but well-meaning co-workers (Gibbs had been generally non-suffocating enough in his care and affection that he had warranted only partial avoidance and the occasional snarky remark). _Somehow, I don't think that ice-cream and shakes and movies are gonna cut it with Gibbs,_ thought Tony, standing in Gibbs' kitchen, staring into Gibbs' mostly empty freezer, which didn't even have any ice-cream in it, only frozen berries. Tony hadn't even known that Gibbs ate berries.

 

_Well, shit._

 

This was not a situation for which Tony was in any way prepared.

 

_And here I thought I was partnered with Mr. Leroy Jethro 'Never had a cold. Never been sick' Gibbs._

 

Tony wasn't about to admit it aloud, but the fact that Gibbs had caught a cold, yet supposedly never been sick before in his entire life, terrified the shit out of him. What if that meant that Gibbs had caught some superbug that could kill him? Or worse, Gibbs had no immune system defence against the illness because he'd never had to fight off any other illnesses? Or what if- _Snap out of it, Anthony!_ He shut the freezer and opened the fridge below it. There were pears, and a handful of the little orange juice boxes that Amira liked to drink. That was it. _What the fuck, Gibbs? You don't even like pears!_ Tony closed the door just a little more firmly than was required in restrained disgust at the refrigerator situation.

 

He was gonna have to go grocery shopping. Tony groaned, leaning in to rest his forehead against the cool surface of the fridge. Gibbs was sick for the first time ever and the last thing Tony wanted to do was leave him alone for longer than two minutes. What if he got worse while Tony was out? Tony straightened and scrubbed his hands over his face. _I'll just get him a cold glass of water for now, then go grocery shopping when Brad gets here._ Tony got out a clean glass from a cupboard and filled it at the sink. He headed upstairs to the master bedroom, where only recently he'd been invited inside to sleep on the queen size bed - he couldn't help but to think of it as _Shannon and Gibbs's bed_ , but he shook off that thought, he had more urgent issues to deal with today.

 

"Gibbs?" he softly called as he entered the bedroom. Gibbs groaned, and pulled his pillow over his head. He was laying on his side, curled up a little, with the duvet covering his shoulders but not his lower half. Tony eyed his butt, but in concern, not arousal, because Gibbs was wearing a red pair of Tony's briefs instead of the sweatpants he'd had on when Tony had gone down to the kitchen. "I've got some water for you here. Are you warm enough or too warm right now?"

 

Gibbs coughed, a rough wheezing that sawed its way out of his lungs through his throat. "Don't want water. Legs and head hot. Shoulders and back cold." Gibbs sniffed, his sinuses totally congested. "I hate this."

 

Tony put the glass of water on the bedside table and sat on the bed, placing a hand on Gibbs's duvet-covered shoulder. "I know you do, buddy. Hang in there, Brad's on his way to check you out and he'll be here soon."

 

"Not your buddy," muttered Gibbs petulantly, eyes closed tight. "I'm your man." He coughed again, his fists clenching from the pain.

 

Tony rubbed his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "Yeah, you are." Gibbs wasn't a fan of terms of endearment that Tony also applied to other people, like to his friends or frat brothers, he said they didn't show care for the individual. Unfortunately Tony wasn't comfortable using typically romantic forms of endearment on Gibbs like babe or darling or honey, they seemed too feminine and saying them felt oddly like he was misgendering his male partner. Not that Gibbs had minded when he'd said so, but he hadn't given any alternatives either, only shrugged. Tony probably would have rolled his eyes just now at Gibbs' stubbornness if Gibbs wasn't so pale and sweaty and sick, but he was, and looking at him, Tony's gut roiled in worry _. Maybe some light humour? Try to keep his spirits up?_ "Well man, just sit tight and I'm sure Brad will sort you right out."

 

Gibbs coughed wetly, that same horrible wheezing sound. The coughing didn't stop, Gibbs' muscles constricting and his  body curling further in, and all Tony could do was hold him with one arm and rub his back with his other hand and press kisses to his neck. Eventually, the coughing fit slowly subsided, and Gibbs could suck in deep breaths of air, shuddering with the force of just breathing.

 

Gibbs lifted one of his hands to hold Tony's hand on his shoulder, and Tony gripped his fingers tight, pressing his entire face into Gibbs' hair. "You think, you're so, funny, Tony," Gibbs rasped out, and Tony could _hear_ the feeling of broken glass stuck in his throat.

 

Tony grinned, his lips and teeth pressing gently against the back of Gibbs's ear. "I am so funny. I'm hilarious." Gibbs huffed a laugh, then coughed a little. They both tensed, but it stopped quickly, not turning into another full-blown fit, and they relaxed together in perfect synchronicity. Quietly, Tony said, "Gibbs, when Brad gets here he's gonna stick around for a bit while I go shopping for all the meds and lemonade and chicken soup and stuff that people usually buy to get better, alright?" Tony hadn't actually asked Brad to stay yet, but since their personal physician had cleared his morning for Gibbs as soon as Tony had explained the situ over the phone, Tony didn't think he'd mind too much.

 

"You telling me, or asking me?" said Gibbs, as he played with Tony's fingers.

 

Tony huffed against his ear. "I think we need a new rule where, when you're sick, I'm the boss."

 

"You're the boss, anyway, when we're not, at work." Gibbs devolved into another coughing fit, and Tony held him tight again, and rubbed his back again, and gave him even more kisses on his neck this time in the hopeless hope that it would help. It didn't. 

 

Tony waited the coughing fit out, and once Gibbs's chest had stopped heaving quite so badly, he said, "I fail to see how I'm the boss when we're off duty. I thought we were equals." _As much as is possible when I'm like a silly puppy that's eager for your attention_.

 

"Well, yeah, but I, always-follow-your lead!" Gibbs rushed the last bit out before throwing his pillow away and coughing again, so hard Tony was scared he was gonna cough out his lungs, anatomical impossibilities left behind. Tony helped Gibbs sit up, and as he did so, he could hear someone knocking hard on the front door.

 

"That's probably Brad at the door. I'll have to go let him in." But Tony didn't move from Gibbs's side, rubbing his back.

 

"Not, locked," said Gibbs, panting as the coughing subsided yet again.

 

"You started locking it on the nights I stay over, remember?" Tony didn't like that Gibbs, who was normally sharp as a tack and with excellent memory, was forgetting things, even something small, during this sickness. Tony hadn't realised for weeks that what was taking Gibbs longer to come up to bed was that he was checking the premises and locking absolutely everything up. It was sweet, in a Gibbs kind of way, but bittersweet for the reminder the Gibbs expected to lose him, either willingly or by force. Tony knew it would be the latter if it ever came down to it, but he hadn't quite worked up the courage to let Gibbs know that. Even though Tony had a masculine engagement ring, with his and Gibbs's initials engraved on the inside, hidden away in his tie drawer back in his apartment.

 

"Oh, right," said Gibbs, sounding tired and cranky, and rubbing a hand across his forehead.

 

"Keep breathing partner, I'll go get the doc." It used all of his willpower to get up, kiss Gibbs's forehead - and feel it burning up beneath the press of his lips - and walk down to see through the window that Dr. Brad Pitt was waiting patiently at the front door.

 

He unlocked the door and pulled it open. "Brad. Thank god you're here." Tony pulled his best friend into a hug, relaxing as he was hugged tightly back, and indulged himself with just a single full minute of receiving comfort instead of giving it.

 

After the plague incident, Brad and Tony had become friends, bonding over sports and high pressure jobs and cheap takeaway. A  few years later Brad's wife, Nurse Emma, had changed to Dr. Emma and opened up her own practice, and Brad had started splitting his time between both Bethesda hospital and Emma's practice, at which point he’d become Tony’s primary physician. But it was only six months ago that Gibbs had signed up for Brad to be his primary physician as well. Tony and Gibbs had had a truly awkward conversation about getting tested for STDs so that they could stop using condoms during sex, and Gibbs, with bright red cheeks and a shy ducking of his chin, had grunted out that he thought they should share a doctor and get tested jointly since _We're a family_. Tony had agreed, and had started looking at engagement rings designed for men the very next day.

 

"Hey. How's Gibbs doing, Tony?" asked Brad, slowly pulling back from their hug.

 

Tony broke the hug entirely, planting his hands on his waist. "He's got a fever, headache, sore throat, coughing, weak muscles and muscle aches, coughing, blocked nose, and have I mentioned the coughing?" Tony ran a hand through his hair.

 

Brad nodded seriously.  "Okay, well, I'll look him over, and while I'm doing that, you should shower and put on some more substantial clothing-" Tony blinked and look down at himself. He was only wearing a white t-shirt - Gibbs's - and black briefs. "-because there's a 95% chance I'm gonna be driving Gibbs and you to Bethesda afterwards."

 

Tony looked up. "But you haven't even checked him yet," said Tony, confused.

 

"It sounds like he's got the flu, but he's got no medical history of ever having one before, so I want him in Observation ASAP. This could potentially hit him a lot harder than it would hit another man of his age and health."

 

"Okay, okay, let's go then." Tony turned around and led Brad upstairs, Brad closing the front door behind him.

 

When they got to the master bedroom, Gibbs was sitting on the edge of the bed, bent in half with his head between his knees and hacking his lungs up again.

 

"That sounds like hell," drawled Brad, moving forward and crouching at Gibbs's side, placing his med kit on the floor. Tony hadn't registered that Brad had one, but it probably hadn't just appeared out of thin air in the last couple of seconds.

 

"Thanks," said Gibbs miserably. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.

 

"Right. Tony's gonna shower and get dressed while I check your symptoms, right Tony?" Brad was looking at him, and Tony forced himself to nod.

 

"Yeah, call if you need anything." Tony grabbed some jeans, socks and shoes, and Gibbs's old grey NIS hoodie, and he darted in to squeeze Gibbs's shoulder before he high-tailed it to the bathroom. The sooner he was clean and dressed, the sooner he could get back to taking care of Gibbs.

 

Tony left the bathroom door slightly ajar behind him, dumped his clothes on the hand-wash bench, and turned on the hot water in the shower. After throwing his night clothes in the basket and hopping into the shower, he washed thoroughly and efficiently, with plenty of body wash, shampoo and conditioner. He didn't know when he'd next have the chance to shower. Going to the hospital was something that happened with alarming regularity and it usually meant long nights failing to sleep in an uncomfortable chair next to Gibbs's hospital bed - as was his right, being Gibbs' next of kin.

 

Turning off the water and stepping out of the shower, he dried off and dressed fast, listening to the low murmurs of Brad and Gibbs, interrupted by Gibbs's coughs.

 

"You done in there, Tony?" called Brad.

 

"Yeah, I'm right here," said Tony, slipping back into the bedroom, and striding to Gibbs's side.

 

"Good," said Brad. He pulled Gibbs up, slinging Gibbs' arm over his shoulder. "I'll help him use the toilet, and then we'll head to the hospital."

 

"I can help him with the toilet," offered Tony, unsure why it hadn't been assumed that he would do that in the first place.

 

"Only if, you wanna, wipe my ass, Tony," huffed Gibbs.

 

Tony blinked. He looked to Brad, who was eyeing him amusedly, and back to Gibbs, who looked _done_ with everything. "Well, it's not like I don't wipe your ass in other circumstances."

 

Gibbs coughed out a laugh, a slight smile curling his mouth. "Yeah, you're a good top."

 

Tony face-palmed, then moved forward and slipped Gibbs's other arm over his shoulders. _"Brad does not need to know that I always top, Leroy!"_

 

Brad chuckled. "Well, I didn't know that until you just told me, but besides that, who do you think gave Gibbs the gay sex talk?"

 

Tony stared at him.

 

"Not my dad," rasped Gibbs, and pressed a kiss to Tony's temple.

 

Tony could not deal with his best friend knowing all about how he and his partner liked to have sex, and decided denial would be the best course of action.  "Brad, help me get him to the toilet and I'll deal with the rest."

 

They made their way into the bathroom, and Tony lowered the seat onto the toilet, and together Brad and Tony carefully lowered Gibbs into sitting on it.

 

"Yell if you need help, Buckeye," muttered Brad.

 

"Thanks." He waited until Brad had left the bathroom, leaving the door just slightly open again in case of an emergency, before he crouched down and went about pulling his red briefs off of Gibbs. "So, Brad gave you the gay sex talk?" He was curious, but mostly he wanted to distract Gibbs from any embarrassment or discomfort he might feel over the current circumstances.

 

"Didn't wanna let you down," said Gibbs, rubbing his forehead against his shoulder to push back his sweat-damp hair. "That, and I was scared, it was gon' hurt."

 

"You couldn't let me down in the bedroom, even if you tried." Tony smiled reassuringly at Gibbs, it was good to know he wasn't alone in his insecurity, but it would be even better if they could eradicate both of their insecurities. He turned away to give Gibbs an illusion of privacy, and desperately ignored the sounds of his partner taking a dump. Honestly, human bodies were disgusting sometimes. But, you did what you had to for family. Tony continued, "As for pain, you could always have started out by topping, I recall being willing."

 

Gibbs coughed, and braced his hands on his knees. "Nah, 's gross." His nose scrunched up. "Don't know how you can stand it, putting your dick, where, you know, shit comes out."

 

Tony chuckled, and teasingly said, "Surely Brad taught you that most of the time it's pretty clean back there."

 

Gibbs huffed a laugh, aware that his reasoning was based on that instinctive _yuck_ reaction and not based on anatomy. "I'm done. You sure, you don't wanna call Brad, for this part?"

 

"No. It's my job to look after you." Tony leaned over a bit and pulled a good strip of toilet paper off the roll.

 

"It's really not." Gibbs leaned against Tony's shoulder. "And this is a bit, above and beyond, the call of duty."

 

''It'll be my job to take care of you when we're married, so you should probably shut up and let me get some practice in," said Tony mildly. "Don't pretend we're not both the marrying type."

 

Gibbs laughed and coughed, and coughed some more.  He panted out, "Was wondering, how long, you were gonna, sit on that ring."

 

Tony scrunched up his nose and went about wiping Gibbs's butt clean, not saying anything.

 

"Tony?"

 

"How did you find the ring?" said Tony softly, dropping the dirty toilet paper into the toilet and flushing it down.

 

"Went snooping, through your drawers, looking for something you liked that I could, buy for you, for Valentine's." Tony wanted to laugh at how sheepish Gibbs sounded, but he was too anxious. Gibbs continued, "I like the ring, even if it means we won't have matching bands." Tony relaxed a bit. _He likes the ring. I can get another identical one made if he wants us to match, that's fine._

 

Tony stood up and moved to the sink, turned on the hot water, grabbed the soap, and went to work cleaning his hands. His heart felt like it was gonna jump out of his chest. _He likes the ring!_

"Are you mad at me for snooping?" asked Gibbs.

 

"What? _No_. God, no." _I've certainly done plenty of my own snooping, and you've never begrudged me that._ Tony grabbed the hand towel and turned around, wiping his hands. Gibbs looked a sorry sight, his silver locks all dark with sweat, blue eyes bloodshot from no sleep, and his skin pale and clammy. "Just worried, I guess, about how you'd react," he admitted, not meeting Gibbs's eyes as he knelt down in front of him and pulled the red briefs back up, tucking everything back into place. "It would be your fifth marriage. A fourth potential for divorce."

 

"You know I'm gonna say yes, right?"

 

Tony's head jerked up, and he spluttered, "You can't just say that! I'm not asking yet!"

 

"Well yeah, but, I want you to know, you have nothing to worry about," said Gibbs earnestly, cupping Tony's cheek with one hand. "I'll say yes, and I'll say I do, and I won't walk away or ever ask for divorce. I'm never the one who wants to end it. I _like_ commitment and stability and having someone to come home to, and I'm _in love_ with you, Anthony."

 

Tony tried to mock-scowl at Gibbs for ruining the surprise, but he couldn't hold back the grin that broke free and stole over his face. "Right back at you, Jethro."

 

Of course, then Gibbs broke the moment by trying to cough out his guts all over Tony's face.

 

"Right. Let's get you to the hospital. _Brad!"_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Gibbs has it far worse in this story than me, but my own disgust at being sick probably shines through. I currently have a nasty cold and I'm not very happy about it, so I wrote this as a purely self-indulgent piece to cheer myself up.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear if there's anything you think I could have done better! 
> 
> Thank you very, very much if you've managed to get all the way to the end.
> 
> Cheers,  
> Edmond.


End file.
